Casualties of War
by Soraki
Summary: In every war, there is a hero and a villain. But sometimes not even they understand what they’re fighting for.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own the Harry Potter series, blah blah blah. But can I have Draco?

**Summary**: In every war, there is a hero and a villain. But sometimes not even they understand what they're fighting for.

**Notes**: Trying in this fandom again despite my lack of major feedback from my other fic, Heart's Desire. Hopefully this one will do a little better. No names are used, but it's about Harry and Draco. Anyway, enjoy and feedback is muchly appreciated, people!

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Casualties of War

The war had begun.

And like any other war, the two sides were blinded by their own beliefs. Blinded by their prejudice and fueled by their hatred. For years the tension grew and grew. For years it was all pushed down and bottled up, waiting for some tremor to shatter the fragile glass.

And when it did, all Hell broke loose.

Everywhere in the country there was immediate death and destruction. People captured, tortured, and murdered in the name of a belief. Families broken and children orphaned. Lives ruined. Lives lost.

The "dark" side was blamed for all this. They were the minority in the war—automatically dubbed evil. They killed because they could not accept those who were different. The fathers fought in the wars, the mothers supported the cause, and the children were just lost. Drawn into the mass because of their families.

These children had no choice but to join their parents. They were marked from birth as futures soldiers of the Darkness by everyone. They were prejudiced against their whole lives. The thought of leaving was utter blasphemy. They would become traitors to the Darkness and remain enemies to the Light.

They would be stuck in the middle with no place to call home.

And among these lost children, there were two teenage boys—hardly of age, and yet already the focus of the war. The battles were fought on their commands and prisoners were taken in their names.

They were the leaders of the two sides of the war. The Savior of the Light and the Harbinger of the Darkness. The two boys had first met at the tender age of eleven, long before any serious thoughts of warfare had plagued them. And yet, unlike the other children around them, they were denied the right to befriend each other.

The Savior of the Light was just a young boy shoved into the world unprepared. From birth it was his destiny to lead the fight against the Darkness, but he was sheltered from his fate until a decade later. That was when the veil came of and he was forced into a life where he didn't understand what was going on, why people were fighting, or what people were fighting _for_. All he knew—all he understood—was that he needed to fight to survive.

Then there was the Harbinger of Darkness. Shunned by all but the cold darkness his whole life, he was trapped. Trapped in the glass cell set in place by his father—looking out to all the radiance and hope and never getting a chance to just _feel_ the warmth.

But he was a leader and true leaders never showed weakness. He was proud—arrogant, even—and strong. He was the role model for every soldier of the Darkness. And behind his cold and cruel façade, he was nothing. He hated what he had become, and yet he was in far too deep to ever dream of solace. All he wanted was a ray of light. And when he was eleven years old, he was denied even that.

The two young boys had met accidentally. Both had wandered from their guardians, eager to explore a new world that was opened to them. The two lost souls met—and they clashed. The Savior had just had his life turned upside down. He learned of his parents' deaths by the Darkness and now he was standing in front of their future leader.

And so the Savior rejected the Harbinger. He pushed away the boy now and forever the mightiest leader the Darkness had ever seen. The two boys had risen to the top, fighting for all their respective sides with the very essence of their beings for reasons unsure. But it was always lonely at the top.

They were strong—physically, mentally, and emotionally. They were the support beams for the rest of the world. Their people believed in them and yet they never believed in themselves.

The Savior and the Harbinger. Two manifestations of the same soul. Both unsure little boys exploring their worlds and hiding behind masks that were handed to them on bloodstained silver platters.

And now, seven years later, the two boys stood before each other once more. All would be decided in the final battle when one leader would finally fall. With their weapons raised and their masks in place, they fought.

The actual battle did not matter. Because that day, when one lost soul was forced to betray another, both leaders died. That day,the bothlost their innocence. The little eleven-year-old boys who were trapped in the bodies of adults were slaughtered ruthlessly.

And with these little boys, the true Savior and Harbinger were lost. They were no longer hiding behind their masks. The masks were all that was left.

For lives are not the only casualties of war.


End file.
